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Sunday, November 9, 2014

New Release - RISING DAMP - m/m paranormal

I
love ghost stories and I’d just finished The Ghost Wore Denim with KC Kendricks
http://www.amberquill.com/store/p/2044-The-Ghost-Wore-Denim.aspx
when another spooky idea dropped into my head… Supposedly a ghost must remain
in the place where he died until such time as his murderer is apprehended or his
demise is somehow revenged. But if this is true what happens if a ghost gets
accidentally relocated and needs help to return home?

When Matt Jones takes a temporary job as a
housekeeper/housesitter in an old and imposing three-story Queen Anne Victorian
estate, he’s worried about patching up a misunderstanding with his new
boyfriend. He has no idea he’ll be sharing the premises with a ghost and,
within the month, his life will drastically change.

Never in Matt’s wildest dreams
would he have imagined that living with a sexy ghost could be so exciting and
rewarding...

Excerpt:

...“In other words, you want me
to take you back so you can figure something out?” I couldn’t believe I was
buying into this ridiculous nonsense. But hey, it was better than watching
mindless TV or twiddling my thumbs.

“I’d be most grateful if you
would.”

“No problem. What do I have to
do? Park my car out front, then you’ll hop in and give me directions to the
house?”

“I’m afraid it won’t be quite
that easy. The first step will be to get me and the trunk out of this house.
It’s a fairly big trunk and you may need help to carry it. Then you’ll have to
find a way of putting it back inside Henry’s house.”

I stared at Toby hard. This had
to be a joke. It was too crazy to be anything else. But then his image wavered
again and I gave in. Whoever he was, the sooner I got him and that fucking
trunk out of here the better for all concerned.

I swallowed a king-sized sigh.
“You’re right. It sounds anything but easy. There’s bound to be someone else
living in the house by now, so I can’t knock on the door and pretend it’s a
delivery. And I won’t do anything stupid like breaking in. You have any better
suggestions?”

He gave me another of his super
sad looks. “Sorry, I don’t.”

“What if I take you over there
late one night and leave you on the doorstep?”

“That may not work. I think the
new owner will have to take the trunk inside.”

“You know this for sure or
you’re just guessing?”

“In ghost stories the spirit
must forever remain the house where he breathed his last breath.”

“Right. But this is real life
not a book. Who’s going to take in a package they know nothing about?” I
wondered aloud. “If they have any sense they’ll call the bomb squad and run
like hell. Any other brilliant ideas?”

“The garage is attached to the
house and there’s a conservatory at the back. In both cases, the doors into the
main part of the house will be locked, but if either of the outer ones are open
that would work.”

“I may have a better idea.”

“And that is?”

“I have a friend on the police
force. Give me the address and a couple of days to scope the place out and talk
to my friend. Where’s the trunk?”

“The address is 24 Alder Close,
and it’s that old cabin trunk in the first room you checked. Pale green banded
with strips of dark wood. Maybe you noticed it?”

“I saw there were several
trunks when I looked in there, but I didn’t notice any one in particular. Let
me take a look at the house first. I’ll worry about the rest later.”

I headed back in the direction
of the stairs and Toby followed along behind.

Just before we reached them, he
said, “By the way, I forgot to thank you for last night. It was a total blast.
We must do it again sometime soon.”

I turned to face him. “Excuse
me?”

“You’ve already forgotten?” He
grinned. “Never mind. Perhaps it wasn’t that good after all. I must try to do
better next time.”

I had no idea what Toby was
talking about. I stared at him for a second, waiting for him to explain. When I
realized that wasn’t going to happen, I muttered a quick see ya later and went
out through the steel door, which I then closed and locked, just in case. In
case of what I wasn’t quite sure. If he was a ghost a locked door wouldn’t keep
him in. And if he wasn’t?

I had no answer for that, but
halfway down the stairs I remembered my wet dream. My knees buckled and I
grabbed onto the stair rail to stop from falling the rest of the way. The dream
had been fantastic, as good if not better than the real thing, but still a
dream. No way did Toby have anything to do with it.

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